dark azure

“That was the problem. I’m sorry, Miss Porter, but it’s hard to discuss the orgies of Midsummer with such a beautiful woman and keep my diction.” Mark looked at his hands in his lap, wringing nervously. “I mean, you’re only, what, four years older than I am and . . .” He felt a hand on his arm. “. . .so pretty.” His voice trailed. Mark looked up and into Miss Porter’s eyes. The dark azure raged with passion. His breath halted and she kissed him.

Lord Malinov, Journals of Lord Malinov

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About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet
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